Any Way You Want Me (5 page)

Damn it, he was a freaking idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

Before she’d come to pick him up, he’d taken a quick glance around to make sure there was no incriminating evidence lying about, so he knew the living room was at least superficially safe. But he needed to make a closer inspection, and fast.

“Sorry this place is kind of a mess,” he said.

“Don’t worry about it.” She started removing the cartons of food from the carryout bags and placing them on the cocktail table.

Making as though he was cleaning up, he grabbed the stacks of magazines and bills sitting on the end table and carried them to a closet, where he shoved them on the top shelf.

“I’ll get some silverware,” she said, heading for the kitchen.

“No, wait, I’ll get it,” he said a little too quickly. “I think I left dirty dishes on the counter.”

She gave him an odd look. “Really, it’s okay,” she said, but lowered herself to the floor beside the table.

In the kitchen, he glanced around for more incriminating evidence. The answering machine blinked at him with a message waiting, so he turned it off to avoid any disastrous “Hey, Alex” messages. A few pieces of mail lay on the counter near the phone. He grabbed them up and shoved them in a drawer beneath the phone book, then found the silverware.

“What would you like to drink?” he called into the living room. “I have beer, water, milk and OJ.”

“Guess I’ll take a beer, then.”

He emerged from the kitchen carrying two Heinekens, plates, forks and serving spoons, then arranged it all on the cocktail table.

“I need to use the bathroom,” he said. “I’ll be right back. Go ahead and start without me.”

Inside his small bathroom, he threw open the medicine cabinet and scooped out the labeled prescription medicine, then wrapped it all in a towel and stowed it in the back of the cabinet under the sink. After relieving himself and washing his hands, he went to the bedroom and gave it a quick survey for more evidence of his real identity.

For once, his lack of effort in making his apartment
a personal space seemed to be paying off. The only thing he needed to hide in his bedroom was an old photo of himself and his brother, which he stowed in a dresser drawer. Entering the hallway again, he bumped into Yasmine leaving the bathroom.

“Just needed to wash my hands,” she said. “What are you doing?”

“Hiding some dirty laundry from you.”

She grinned. “I’ve been in bachelor pads before. Socks on the floor are not going to shock me.”

“I’d at least like your first impression to be something besides ‘hopeless slob.’”

“Trust me, your first impression is safe,” she said, glancing down at his crotch—or was it his reindeer boxers?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he said as he followed her down the short hallway.

She turned and slid her arms around his waist, peering up at him. “It means, when you give a girl the kind of ride you just gave me, she’s not going to give a damn what your apartment looks like.”

His cock, predictable as it was, stirred against her abdomen. At the same time, his stomach growled, and she glanced down at the sound.

“We’d better feed you so you’ll have energy for later.”

For later. A jolt of satisfaction shot through him to know that there’d be more, that this wasn’t just a one-shot deal.

In the living room again, Alex grabbed two large pillows from the sofa and tossed them on the area rug as makeshift floor pillows. “Dining doesn’t get any finer than this,” he said as he motioned for her to sit.

She smiled. “I’m a simple girl. Great sex, good carryout—it doesn’t take a lot to make me happy.”

They dug into the food and ate in silence for a few minutes. Alex hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until he’d devoured most of his shrimp fried rice and looked up to see Yasmine staring at his work space on the other side of the room.

“Looks like you’ve got a whole business set up there,” she said, and the food in his stomach turned to stone.

He did all his security business work from home, and if she looked closely enough, she’d be able to figure it out.

He shrugged. “I’m a computer geek—what can I say?”

“Bet my system’s better than your system,” she taunted.

“Did you build it yourself?”

“Yeah, you?”

He nodded. “Play your cards right and I might show you what’s inside the CPU case, water-cooled system and all.”

“We’re verging on sounding like the world’s biggest geeks, you know.”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “We should stop while we’re still ahead.”

She cast a curious glance at him. “What exactly are we doing here?”

“Eating fried rice and Kung Pao chicken?”

“I mean you and me. Are we going to pretend this never happened come Tuesday?”

“I know the whole sleeping-with-a-coworker thing can get awkward,” he said, buying time until he could think of the best angle.

“Maybe we should establish some ground rules.”

“Is this a one-night thing?” he asked, hoping like hell it wasn’t. “Or do you see this happening again?”

She smiled and glanced down at his bare feet. “You do have nice feet,” she said.

He slid his foot closer, then trailed his toes along her inner thigh until they made contact with her panties. He found her clit with his big toe and massaged, watching as her eyes fluttered shut.

“Mmm,” she moaned, letting her fork clatter onto the plate.

“Are you avoiding my question?” he teased, pushing aside the narrow crotch of her panties and slipping his toe inside her.

“No…not avoiding…” She reached down and stilled his foot, then gently pushed it away, still holding it between her legs. “If you keep that up, we’ll never finish dinner.”

“Just reminding you of what you could be missing out on.”

She stroked his wet toe with her fingertips. “Does that mean you want this to be more than a one-night thing?”

“I figure, I’m alone this weekend, you’re alone—”

“We might as well keep each other company,” she filled in.

Alex heaved a sigh of relief. “Exactly. I can understand the need for ground rules. Like, no talking about what happens this weekend with coworkers.”

“Do we need to set some kind of time limit to keep things simple? Like, when the weekend is finished, so are we?”

It was a rule that worked to his advantage, giving him time to find out the truth about Yasmine, then extract himself from her life before any messy emotions got involved. So he had no idea why her suggestion felt like a punch to the gut. Had to be stupid male pride getting in the way.

“That sounds fair, but we could always reevaluate later.”

“And no hard feelings after the fact. We go back to work, and we’re friends. Deal?”

He extended his pinky finger, and she intertwined hers with his. “Deal,” he said.

Then they shook on it.

A
LEX FELT SOMETHING
warm and soft against him. He shifted his weight toward the warmth and came in contact with solid flesh. He opened his eyes and saw the back of Yasmine’s head, her dark hair spilling over the pillow.

Then the memories of last night came flooding in. Flesh against flesh, tangled limbs, hot kisses, even hotter sex. They’d kept going until his leg muscles trembled and his body was spent. Then they’d collapsed on the bed, in each other’s arms, and slept the night away.

He yawned and stretched. From the window, light poured in, diffused by fog.

It was Christmas Eve, and morning fog was about as winter wonderland as San Francisco weather got.

This was normally one of Alex’s favorite days of the year, but this year, the holiday promised to be memorably different if it played out the way he hoped. If he convinced Yasmine to let him spend the night—maybe the whole weekend—at her place….

Next to him, she stirred. Her leg moved against his, the satin skin of her thigh warming him, then she rolled onto her back and peered at him through half-lidded
eyes. In the morning light, with her makeup gone and her hair a mess, she looked amazing.

“Hey,” he said, his voice groggy from sleep.

He hated that he was so mesmerized by her, even after all these years. She had the power to make him lose his mind.

“Hey, yourself,” she whispered, eyeing his bare chest. “Did we, um, do something last night?”

“You don’t remember?”

Her straight face gave way to a smile. “Sorry, bad joke. Yes, I remember.”

She traced his jaw with her fingers and then leaned forward and placed a kiss on his lips. “Last night was fun.”

“Mmm-hmm. You have any big last-minute shopping plans today?”

“Actually, no plans at all other than hanging out with you.”

This was his chance, but there was a risk of overplaying his hand. She wore a blissed-out expression, though, that told him now was the time, while the memories of their night together were still hot and vivid.

He slid his hand across her belly, a featherlight touch that caused her nipples to harden. Up her rib cage his hand went, then to her breasts where he traced her areolas with his fingertips.

“What do you say we spend the day in bed?”

She smiled and arched her back, stretching her arms over her head. “I’d say you’ve got filthy intentions toward me.”

She draped her leg over his and rolled onto him, resting her chin on his chest.

“I might say the same thing about you.”

She ground her hips against him, and he could feel the hot dampness between her legs on his thigh. Instantly he grew hard.

“I think I made my intentions pretty clear last night,” she said.

“Are you always so bold?” he asked, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer—that she was much too bold for her own good.

And why that caused him a pang of concern, he couldn’t say.

“Maybe. Are you always so good in bed?”

“With the right woman.”

Though last night was not usual. He’d been on fire as he’d never been before. That’s what happened, he supposed, when he spent a decade waiting and wanting a woman he knew he shouldn’t have.

She was even better than he’d imagined.

But there were so many fantasies he’d entertained. So many ways he’d imagined taking her, pleasuring her, having her to do with as he pleased. He’d need the whole weekend to do those fantasies justice, no doubt, and he’d need just as much time to find the truth he was looking for.

“I guess it would be tacky to not even get out of bed on Christmas Eve,” she said.

“I don’t know. I mean, as long as we’re together, it sort of goes along with the spirit of giving, right?”

“Actually, maybe we could take this back to my place. I’ve got a cat who needs to be fed.”

Thank heaven for cats.

“Sounds good to me,” he said, all casual and aloof, as though she hadn’t just invited him to snoop around in her life.

Her hand was traveling down his chest, and by the time she made it to his erection, he’d forgotten what he’d been thinking about.

“There’s no big hurry. The cat can wait a few hours, but I, on the other hand…”

She gripped him and began to massage.

Then she started kissing his chest, biting his nipples, moving lower, and lower still. Alex closed his eyes and let all coherent thought fade away.

She made it to his cock and drew him into her mouth again. Soft satin lips caressed, teased, worked him toward climax all too quickly. But then she slowed down, dragged her teeth gently along his length until he squirmed and shuddered and couldn’t take another second of not being inside her.

“Stop,” he said, gasping.

“You don’t like?”

“I like,” he whispered as he reached for another condom, opened the package and slid it on. “I definitely like.”

He liked it too damn much.

He grasped her arms and tugged her up on top of him. Gripping her ass and shifting her hips, he buried his cock between her legs and pushed himself inside her. She was hot, sweet, wet and tight, even better the morning after.

For the first time since he’d set this crazy plan into motion, he understood the biggest danger of all. It wasn’t Yasmine discovering his true identity. It was the danger of never wanting to let her go.

Y
ASMINE COULDN’T REMEMBER
the last time she’d felt so thoroughly satisfied. And if the rest of the weekend
proved to be anything like the past twelve hours, she might never want to let Kyle out of bed.

But then, keeping him as her love slave definitely would be breaking some kind of law, crossing a line she’d never be able to cross. A girl could dream, anyway.

She was about to step into the shower with Kyle, who was already there, lathered up and looking even better wet than he did dry, when she heard her cell phone ringing in the next room. Only a few people had her number and knew not to call unless it was completely necessary, so she hurried to answer.

“Hello?” she said after she’d dug the phone out of her purse, gripping the towel around herself.

“It’s Cass. I need you to fix my computer, ASAP.”

“You’re calling my cell phone about your
computer?
Is this an actual emergency?”

“Yes!”

“Um, I’m kind of tied up right now,” she said, glancing at Kyle standing dripping wet and naked in the bathroom doorway now, threatening to make her forget how to string words into coherent sentences.

“Please help me! I’ve got that dinner party tonight, and all the recipes I want to use are on the Internet.”

“And?”

“And when I try to log on, nothing happens. No Internet!”

Any other time Yasmine would have been a little more tolerant of Cass’s computer ineptitude, but this time she expelled a noisy sigh and said, “I’m sorry I can’t help. Maybe you should buy a cookbook.”

“You’re just going to leave me hanging? On Christmas Eve? Your best friend?”

Drew popped into her head—Drew, whom she knew would be a great guy for Cass. If Cass could overlook the slightly nerdy appearance to see the nice guy beneath.

“I’ve got a friend who lives not too far from you and might be free to help you out. I could call him and ask.”

“Please, please, please?”

“On one condition.”

“Anything—you name it.”

“If he fixes your computer, you ask him out on a date.”

Silence. And then Cass said, “Okay, what’s the matter with this guy that he needs you bribing women to go out with him?”

“He’s the guy I mentioned to you. He’s nice. Give him a chance.”

“I told you, I don’t do nerds.”

“That’s my condition. You ask him out, go on a date with him, give him a real chance or no computer help for you.”

“I had no idea you could play so dirty.”

“Like I said, you could go buy a cookbook.”

“I had all my recipes picked out and bookmarked on that cooking Web site you showed me.”

“Should have printed them, huh?”

Yasmine bit her lip to keep from laughing. Kyle was leaning against the door frame now with his arms crossed over his chest, half-smiling as he listened to her conversation. Oddly, she liked him listening in. She found it somehow familiar and intimate in a way she hadn’t been with a guy in too long.

Cass, apparently finished stewing, sighed. “Fine. If he can come fix my computer, I’ll ask him out. And if he’s cute, I’ll take him to bed and screw his brains out.”

“No charity sex. Just be open to possibilities, okay? If he’s home, I’ll have him call you and set up a time to come over. If he’s not available, I’ll call you back.”

She hung up with Cass and gave Kyle an apologetic smile. “I’ll be finished in a sec.”

“Playing matchmaker?”

She shrugged. “I promised Drew I’d hook him up, and as you can see from his date last night, he needs all the help he can get.”

“I’ll be waiting in the tub—hurry up,” he said as he gave her a once-over. “Lose the towel.”

Yasmine dialed Drew’s number, and luckily he picked up. In a mere two minutes, she’d confirmed he was free and set him up to meet Cass. Satisfied that her matchmaker work was done for the day, she turned off her cell phone to save herself any more unwelcome interruptions and headed for the bathroom.

An hour and a steamy round of shower sex later, Yasmine and Kyle were clean and dressed, rejuvenated by doughnuts and coffee, and pulling into a parking spot in front of Yasmine’s apartment. She couldn’t think what they’d do or talk about all day if not for sex, but hey, if sex was all they had in common, she’d be the last girl to complain. Because it was really, really good.

Outside the car, houses in her neighborhood glinted here and there with Christmas lights, while just as many were decidedly unfestive looking. Her own building, a blue and green Victorian that had long ago been converted to four puny apartments, was one of the unfestive variety, since it was inhabited by a Buddhist couple, a pagan and two lazy singles—including Yasmine—who couldn’t be bothered with decorations.

She had an odd sense that she’d embarked on some kind of escape from reality with Kyle, as though she was seeing her own neighborhood with the fresh eyes of a tourist. And maybe that’s what she needed to break out of the doldrums that had settled on her lately—a wild little escape from reality. Maybe this change of perspective would appease her bad-girl urges and she’d be able to return to her rule-following, law-abiding—albeit boring—life with no more tempting whispers from that quarter.

Or maybe she’d just finally be able to finish her current software project with a renewed sense of creativity.

She led Kyle up the stairs and into her apartment, feeling a tiny bit embarrassed that she hadn’t even gotten a tabletop tree.

“So this is my place,” she said, making a sweeping motion.

The cinnamon-colored walls, the iron grillwork she’d arranged as wall decor, the purple sofa, the middle-eastern fabrics draped over the tables and arm of the sofa—it all added up to a warm, cozy place that was distinctly hers. She loved her apartment, small and creaky as it was, and she’d worked her ass off making it a home.

“Nice,” Kyle said as he surveyed the living room. “Makes my place look like a crap hole.”

She tried not to laugh but failed. “Maybe you could use a little decorating help—not that I’m volunteering for the job or anything. You can pay people to do that for you.”

Her Siamese cat, Milo, darted out from his perch on the window and raced across the room, skidding to a
stop in the kitchen doorway. He looked up at her with his haughty blue eyes and yowled.

“He’s trying to convince me he nearly starved to death during my absence.”

“Hey, kitty,” Kyle said as he crouched down and extended his hand to the cat, who in turn stood up on his hind legs and swatted at Kyle’s hand.

“Milo, behave!” She said to the cat, and to Kyle, “Don’t worry, I got him at the shelter and his previous owner had his claws removed. He can bite, but he lives under the delusion that he’s still a fierce, clawed warrior.”

She went to the kitchen and filled the cat’s bowls with food and water, then returned to find Milo still with Kyle, letting him stroke his back.

“Wow, you should feel privileged.”

He shrugged. “Animals like me.”

“So do women,” she said as he stood up. She slid her hands around his waist and pressed her body against him.

“I’m mainly concerned about one particular woman right now.”

“Oh? Well, the one I know of is liking you really, really well.”

He cast a glance at the gifts she’d brought in from the car for him that he still hadn’t opened. “I was going to suggest you put those under the tree, but there’s not a tree. Do you have maybe a house plant or something we could decorate?”

“We should get a tree, you think? To celebrate properly?”

Kyle gave her a look. “That
is
the tradition.”

“I didn’t see any point in putting one up if it was just going to be for me.”

“But add a person, and you gotta have a tree.”

“Right. I think there’s a lot a few blocks over that’s selling live trees. This late in the game, though, we might get stuck with the Charlie Brown variety.”

Given Yasmine’s sad little collection of leftover ornaments that she hadn't used in her cubicle, acquired as gifts from various people over the years and mostly not removed from their original packaging, an ugly tree was better—it would keep her ornaments from looking so pathetic.

“Maybe we can find a little tabletop one,” she said.

“Oh come on, I like a nice, big tree. Maybe an eight-or nine-footer.”

She looked at him as though he’d lost it. “Are you decorating the White House or my apartment?”

“Okay, let’s say we see what kind of selection is left.”

“We might also want to grab lunch out. My apartment is sadly lacking in the food department.”

“That cat food smell is giving me a weird craving,” Kyle said.

Yasmine wrinkled her nose. “For what? Horse meat?”

“For clam chowder in those sourdough bowls like the tourists eat down at Fisherman’s Wharf.”

“Cat food reminds you of
that?
”